


For the Long Haul

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Cake, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nonverbal Communication, Post 3x16, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9768110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: Toby comes back from the garage, and Happy still hasn't left the bed.





	

Toby comes home with a piece of cake bigger than strictly necessary, a six pack of Happy’s favorite beer, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and a bowl of broccoli cheddar soup from Panera. The four things Happy craves when she’s stressed or sad or miserable, and he doesn’t know if any of them will help.

She hasn’t spoken since they got home the night before, just curled up on his chest and sobbed things that broke his heart and made him want to save her world as many times as she needs it, just so he never has to hear her like this again. She told him to go to the party at the garage, get out of the house, but he couldn’t stay for too long. He just went to get the cake and check on how Cabe was doing.

When he opens the door to his bedroom, Happy is curled up so tiny he can barely see her. Clad in one of his old sweatshirts and a pair of pajama pants she left here back in April, only tiny bits of her peek out from under the blankets.

“Hey, lovebug,” he says, voice low and quiet. “I got you – well, everything I could think of.” He holds up the plate. “There’s cake.”

A tiny movement from the top of the blanket pile, and Happy pokes one eye out.

“I thought that might work.” Toby sits on the side of the bed, watching as Happy stares blankly at him. “You don’t have to talk.” He hands her a fork. “You don’t even have to eat the cake, but I can’t promise I won’t finish it before you take a taste if you don’t eat some now.”

She manages to slide up next to him with the blankets still curled around her, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Get any sleep when I was gone?”

Happy shrugs, fiddling with the fork.

“Watch that new episode of Cooks vs. Cons?”

Happy nods.

“I knew it,” he shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Happy’s temple. “You never can wait to watch it when I’m gone.” He shifts so he can wrap one arm around Happy’s shoulder, but to his surprise she uses the opportunity to sort of flatten herself on top of him, face buried in the crook of his neck. “So…No cake?” No response. He manages to set the cake and his fork down on the bedside table, resting his arms on Happy’s back. “Want me to talk or be quiet?”

Happy nods.

“Wait, which one?” He waits for a moment. “You want me to be quiet?” Happy shakes her head. “Oh,” he says, smiling. “Okay. Well…” He trails off. In any other moment, talking is the greatest thing he can imagine. He loves talking. But right now – right now, he’s wordless.

So he does what he does best. He makes jokes. “What did the chicken say when it crossed the road?” Happy looks up at him quizzically. “He said nothing. He’s a chicken.”

He gets a raised eyebrow.

“What’s green and has wheels?”

Happy sighs and shrugs.

“Grass. I lied about the wheels.”

The tiniest smile. It lasts for just a moment, just a slight flash of amusement, but it’s there.

“Who put the bomp in the bomp she-bomp?”

She shrugs again.

“Hell if I know. What’s a bomp?”

Happy rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but that tiny smile is back, lasting longer this time.

“Want another joke?”

Happy shakes her head.

“Okay,” Toby replies. “Want to just stay here for a while?”

He waits a bit for an answer, but then he realizes: Happy’s fallen asleep. She’s actually fallen asleep.

“A nap sounds pretty good to me, too.”

He wakes up a little later, some time in the night judging by the yellow light of streetlamps bleeding through the window. Happy is still asleep, hand curled into the front of his tee shirt like she can’t let him go. She’s stretched out about eight of his shirts like this, but it’s not like Toby actually minds.

He runs his fingers through her hair, wondering how long she’ll be able to sleep this time. He’s surprised it’s been this long – usually within a couple minutes she wakes herself up crying, refusing to tell Toby anything other than, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

This time, though, about half an hour later, Happy wakes up quietly.

“Hey,” Toby says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How you feeling?” He’s not really expecting an answer.

But, to his surprise, Happy speaks. “You still have that cake, right?”

He can’t suppress his smile. “No, I ate it all.”

For a split second, Happy looks horrified. And then she settles. “Jerk,” she says. “I’m still holding the fork.”

“Which is why I’m giving you the cake.”

They’re quiet while they share the cake, the frosting a little stale on the outside from sitting on the table for a couple of hours, but delicious nonetheless, and Toby feels at home with the two of them zoning out in front of Food Network while eating in bed. He wants this forever.

“Happy?” he says quietly.

She turns to him, clearly not ready to say anything until she knows what’s being asked.

“We can wait,” he tells her. “For him to be done with his sentence. I know you want him to walk you down the aisle.”

Happy’s eyes fill with tears again, to Toby’s surprise.

“Happy, wait – don’t do that.” He wipes away a tear before it can fall all the way down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He wants to kick himself – he ruined the perfect moment by bringing up the worst thing in the world.

“You didn’t,” she replies, and there’s the smallest smile. “You’re willing to wait? Take your time on this big ol’ wedding you’ve always dreamed of?”

“Happy,” he sighs, “you’re what I’ve always dreamed of. I’ll marry you next Tuesday or next decade. As long as you’re smiling, walking down the aisle with your father.” He winks. “And in a pretty white dress?”

She nods. “Oh, if we’re doing a wedding, I’m getting one hell of a dress.”

Toby beams at her, smiling like she’s his sun, and she is. “And he’ll be back,” he assures her. “Your dad will be back. He’s going to be safe, and he’ll get out before you turn thirty.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, my god. I’m going to be thirty soon.”

Toby nods. “Yep. And I’m pretty sure your dad gets out on good behavior before then.” He kisses the top of her head. “And you’ve got me. You’ve always got me.”

Happy scoots up the bed, just enough so she can kiss Toby on the cheek. It’s a sweet gesture, something unlike Happy and yet somehow just like the Happy he’s come to know and adore in the past year. She loves lavender scented dryer sheets, hates the lemon scented Clorox wipes, and won’t use any shampoo except that Herbal Essences one that smells like coconut. He can smell it lingering in her hair even now.

“Always,” Happy says quietly. She’s playing with the collar of his shirt again, stretching it out a little more each day. “You’re really okay with waiting?”

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’ll always love you. If it takes an extra couple years or so to tie the knot, so be it. I’m in this for the long haul. Good, bad, and the ugly.” He kisses her. “Forever.”

She buries her head in his chest. “Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me.”

Toby pokes at her shoulder until she looks at him, and he takes the moment to kiss her on the nose. “I don’t plan on it.”


End file.
